Adolphe let out a little snort. “Pathetic.”
“Leave me,” she whispered.
“Sir,” said the valet. “You shall depart my mistress’s chambers at once.”
The maid crouched near Elise. “My lady, let me see to it for you.”
Elise tightened her grip. “No. Bring me bandages. Bring me ... something.” A splint? Could a dog’s leg be healed once broken? Above her, the valet was attempting to force Adolphe from the room.
“Remove your hands from me, filth,” said Adolphe as he was shoved into the hall. “Or you shall know my wrath once I am master of this house.”
The valet slammed the door and threw the bolt. Then he joined them near the floor. “My lady, I shall send for the Vicomte’s men at once. We will install a guard at your door. We must drive this usurper out before it is too late.”
Elise’s eyes began to burn, but the tears did not spill onto her cheeks, just stayed there, stinging her with their salt. Oh, what did it matter who had this house? Let the Vicomte and Adolphe battle it out, and divide the tenants and servants amongst themselves. Why couldn’t they just let her be? She knelt there, on the carpet, and curved herself around the body of her poor dog, wondering if she could spiral tight enough to disappear altogether.
As morning broke over the horizon, Gitta stood on the edge of the forest and waited for Elise to arrive. Dawn was probably far too early for the poor, pampered princess. Gitta wondered if Elise had ever seen a sunrise in her spoiled life.
Enyo stood waiting patiently by her side. She’d let the animal hunt in the night, and judging from the remains she’d found strewn near their little camp, the unicorn had found a vole’s nest. It would satisfy her for a while, but she hoped Enyo had the opportunity for a real meal before she had to kill her. A stag, perhaps, or a nice, fat wild sow. Gitta would help, if necessary, since she knew the unicorn was not as fast as she had once been. Enyo deserved it.
Enyo lifted her head, and Gitta felt the unicorn softening in anticipation. Another unicorn hunter approached. After a moment, Gitta could hear the most horrid clomping through the underbrush, and then Elise came, dressed in the same clothes from their meeting yesterday, but with the addition of a pair of sturdier boots.
“These are most uncomfortable,” Elise said abruptly. “They were my father’s, and they’re much too big, though I stuffed the toes with rags as you advised.”
“Better this than tearing your feet to shreds on brambles,” said Gitta.
The younger girl’s eyes were shadowed with dark circles this morning. So this is what happened when such perfect creatures were not allowed to sleep until noon?
Enyo was already bowing before Elise. Gitta sighed and waited for the unicorn to finish her ritual. If only Enyo understood the truth of Elise’s presence, she would not be so deferential. But such was the sad destiny of all her kind—helpless to control their love for maidens of the blood, overcome with adoration even as the maidens turned and slew them.
“Come,” Gitta said. “We’ll go practice in the spot where the hunt is to take place. You won’t be able to learn quickly enough to command Enyo as I do, but I’ll teach you to keep her calm and to get her into your lap as tradition requires.”
Elise said nothing, just smoothed her apron over her skirt, no doubt imagining how Enyo’s blood would soil her clothing. Gitta dismissed the unicorn and led Elise away.
They eventually reached the tree Gitta had chosen. It had a large trunk, and a rough pattern of bark that would make it easy enough for Gitta to scale to the lowest branches and lie in wait for the “festivities,” such as they were, to begin.
“You shall sit here,” she said, pointing at a patch of moss near the root. But Elise was nowhere to be seen. Gitta spun around, filtering through the unicorn’s thoughts until she found the younger girl kneeling near an outcrop of greens.
“Wild asparagus!” Elise cried, holding up a bunch. “Oh, isn’t it lovely!” She caught Gitta’s look and straightened, stuffing the stalks into an apron pocket. “Sorry, I was distracted by the plants. I so rarely get a chance to gather wild herbs.”
“You like ... plants?” Gitta asked.
“Very much. You should see my garden.” Elise returned and sat obediently at the base of the tree, arranging her skirts around herself like a queen at a picnic.
Too bad she hadn’t been sent to the Order, thought Gitta. Many of her Sisters focused on herbalism in their work to make cures when the demand for the unicorn’s magical Remedy outweighed the supply.
“What do I do now?” Elise asked.
“You wait,” said Gitta. “Your natural abilities will draw the unicorn to you. It would help,” she added, “if you tried your best to think attractive thoughts.”
Elise closed her eyes and screwed up her features. Did it hurt this much, Gitta wondered, for the fool to think?
Judging from Enyo’s indifferent response, out there in the forest, Elise’s thoughts were not particularly inviting.
Gitta nearly groaned. An actual daughter of the blood on her hands, and she was still forced to treat her like any other girl. Gitta knew she could sit in the tree herself and call the unicorn to her, but Elise had the magic as well. She wanted to at least attempt to treat this hunt as something more than mere playacting.
“No,” said Gitta, and Elise’s eyes popped open. “You must ... call her to you.”
“Enyo!” cried Elise.
“No. Within yourself.”
Elise looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
Gitta rubbed at her temples. “Do you ever—” How could she explain? After thirteen years, the magic was a second nature. “With your pug. Do you ever turn to it and wish it would come to you, and it does?”
To Gitta’s surprise, Elise’s eyes began to water. “No,” she said. “Bisou knows his name. He—” She looked at her lap.
A moment later, the unicorn came rushing out of the woods and stopped at Elise’s side.
Gitta started in surprise. Enyo had come so quickly, she’d hardly felt the change in the animal’s intentions.
Elise barely moved as Enyo softly nudged her snout against the girl’s arm until the unicorn could slide her head beneath it and settle down in her lap.
“There, there,” murmured Elise, as tears fell onto the unicorn’s mane. “Ma petite licorne.”
“My lady,” Gitta said in wonder. “You did it.”
The girl did not look up.
Gitta tasted the unicorn’s thoughts. Pity, deep as a river. What a stupid beast, to pity the instrument of its destruction. Gitta scowled.
Enyo turned in Elise’s lap and bleated at Gitta, then went quiet again, closing her cloudy eyes and relaxing in the girl’s arms.
Gitta’s brow furrowed. And then she felt a tug at the edge of her consciousness, an awareness of something stirring in the woods. It was as if the very trees breathed, their leaves spinning fast in a world gone suddenly still.
“Elise,” she said softly. “Are you sure there are no unicorns in these woods?”
Elise lifted her head. “Of course. Not for decades. Used to be many, though. So many. In fact—”
But the feeling was gone. Gitta searched again, but it was as if she’d caught a note of a song too distant to hear. Perhaps it had merely been the remnants of Elise’s nascent magic that had her confused. Elise’s call to the unicorn had to have been a strong one, to bring Enyo there so fast.
“So,” said Gitta. “That is how you will do it. And then, you must hold tight to her, for the men with their spears will make her angry.”
“Angry?” Elise asked.
Gitta nodded. “Yes. She will wish to protect you. So just continue to be calm, and soothing, no matter what. I shall be hiding in the tree above in case anything happens, and at the right time, I shall shoot her, and then it will be over.”
“You will shoot an arrow at us? But what if you miss?”